Amorous Goods: Scar Tissue

The fourth member of the guy group, Karim, also begged off.

Greg looked at Lina, who was sharing glances with Tory.

"Could be interesting, if you'd like to go," he said, trying really hard to make it sound like he meant it.

Lina wasn't in thrift shop browsing mood either but was also obviously uncomfortable about abandoning Tory.

Her friend solved the dilemma for her. "I'm cool hanging out with Jason and the band if you want to go do something else," she said. "Didn't you say something about wanting to check out the opening of that artist's show? What's-her-name at the What's-it gallery?"

"Vabiola Kapunda at the Spherical Universe gallery," replied Lina. She looked questioningly at Greg.

"Isn't that the gallery that hosted that Non-Egyptian Egyptian show a couple of months back? That was very cool."

Lina snapped her surprised eyes back to Tory. Another checkmark, they told her friend.

Lina and Greg talked animatedly as they strolled among the Namibian artist's works. Both were struck by her expressive cardboard prints, collages, and photographs, and Greg made note of how well the gallery had used the space to present all the different media to tell the artist's story.

When they'd completed their tour, Greg asked if Lina would like to visit another gallery and then perhaps get dinner.

"I'd love to," she said. "But I'm afraid Kiara isn't the only one with family obligations on Sundays. My family still gets together for Sunday dinner at my parents' house."

"Shades of Blue Bloods," said Greg.

Lina laughed. "Well, no cops, but yeah."

"I hope I get to meet them some day," he said with a smile. "But meanwhile, can I take you to dinner another night?"

"Yes, I'd like that."

CHAPTER FIVE

Monday morning, Dylan and Vikki were drinking coffee and eating bagels in the old mansion's expansive kitchen. The cousins had taken up residence in ground floor quarters that had been used by the live-in cook and butler and whomever else they had on staff back in the 19^th century when the tycoon who'd built the old pile had wanted to live like an English Lord. Dylan wondered if the greedy bastard had begun spinning in his grave when his empire crashed within five years of his death and his glorious mansion had been sold off, only to become the fanciest bordello in the tri-state area.

"You never told me if you've added anything new to the safe list that we can bring up to the shop for sale," said Dylan.

"I've actually found some very interesting items, but I'm afraid safety is relative," Vikki replied. "But I'll tell you what, I think we need to start looking for a different class of customer. People who understand what they're dealing with and are willing to pay the money that some of these special items deserve. Morgana's returning from Europe this week, and I'm going to ask her to help with that."

Dylan's head perked up unconsciously; the mere mention of the possible witch and absolute cougar, Morgana Delacroix, had that effect on a man.

Vikki caught the twitch, and as usual, both understood and was upset by it. She'd never done any stereotypical bi-experimentation in college, but if the curvaceous yet elegant raven-haired beauty ever came on to her, Vikki wasn't so sure she'd say no. And she had no illusions that Dylan wouldn't jump at the chance to be with Morgana, despite her probably being old enough to be his mother. That was the other odd thing about the mysterious Madame Delacroix. There were times when Vikki would have guessed her age as only 35, while during relaxed moments it could go as high as 55. But listening to her talk, especially about her adventures with Uncle Ludwig, who'd been at least 76 when he died, Morgana sometimes sounded as if Ludwig had been the younger of the two. Vikki still really didn't want to believe in magic, but the idea that Morgana might not only be enchanting, but enchanted, was one that just kept growing in the young woman's mind.

On the jealousy side of the coin, Vikki had been feeling more and more of a sexual attraction to her erstwhile cousin while they'd been living together in the old manse, and his obvious attraction to the older Morgana hurt sometimes. Of course, she'd begun to suspect that it might be the old house itself that was ramping up her growing libido and the heat between her and Dylan. After so many years of holding the enchanted, sexually oriented objects of Amorous Goods, and hosting everything from illicit liaisons to full-on swinger parties on the upper two floors that had served as a hotel under the name, the Amorous Inn, the old mansion had to have absorbed an incredible amount of sexual experience and magic. An aura that must surely have an effect on anyone who entered the place, let alone lived there full time.

But aside from any magical influences, Vikki also recognized arousing aspects of herself in Dylan. They were both underrated beauties. At 5'8 and 130 pounds, she was quite slender, and her small breasts and relatively trim hips did not draw the male eye the way Morgana's 5'7, 145 pounds did. And as for Dylan, at 6'1, 165, he looked downright skinny in clothes. Their faces were both pleasant but unremarkable. She figured they were both about 7's on most scales. With their clothes on. Get them naked and they'd both easily jump to 8's. Her slender frame was tight and athletic and Dylan's undressed body exposed ripcord muscle.

Of course, she'd never seen him completely undressed, only down to a swimsuit. A swimsuit that had shown enough of a bulge to make her want to see if his penis was as slender, long, and hard as the rest of him.

"Earth to Vikki," she finally heard through her sudden daydream of finding out exactly what her quietly hot cousin was packing.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you'd like me to take your shift in the store so you can get to work on those potential sales items you found right away."

The cousins had come up with a division of labour where Vikki would generally man Amorous Goods in the mornings, and Dylan in the afternoons.

Vikki paused a moment; the offer was tempting. Then, "You were going to do some work upstairs, weren't you? Some maintenance in the guest rooms?" She was still clinging to the idea that she could sell the mansion when they got the AG collection under control, and so wanted to keep the upper floors in good repair.

"Yeah," replied Dylan. "I was going to tighten up all the loose furniture. You know, with all the magic crap old Ludwig dug up, I don't understand why he never found an enchantment that would keep bed frames from shaking loose just because five people were having sex on them at the same time."

Vikki laughed. "I'll look for anything that might help in his notebooks."

*** *** ***

"So, how was he?" Tory asked in the breakroom on Monday morning, as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"He was lovely," answered Lina.

"Lovely? I've called pussies lovely, but that's not an adjective I've ever heard applied to a dick."

"That's because I don't know what his penis looks like. You little slut."

"Bullshit! You two were already drooling all over each other on Friday night. I'll buy that you didn't score on Saturday, since you'd made yourself our designated driver. But there's no way you didn't get into his pants on Sunday."

"After the art gallery I had to get home for Sunday dinner."

"Sunday dinner? You could have begged off, you have before. And for guys not nearly as lovely as Greg."

"I know, and look where it's got me," Lina said sadly. "Abandoning my family for guys who will never go and meet them."

"But you want to have sex with him, I know you do." Tory glared at her friend as if daring Lina to deny it. The Latina said nothing and took a theatrically-long sip of her coffee.

"And does Mr. Lovely know that he'll have to meet the parents just to get laid, let alone get married?" Tory chided.

"It was actually his idea," replied Lina. "That's why he is Mr. Lovely."

"He said--?"

"Well, not that far," hedged Lina. "But he did say he hopes to meet them some day."

Tory screwed her face up as if she was going to be sick.

CHAPTER SIX

Greg took Lina to a quaint Italian restaurant Tuesday night, and they again enjoyed each other's company and conversation over a good meal. He held up the wine bottle to ask if she'd like a refill.

"Just half a glass, please."

"I'm really glad you could make it," he said as he poured.

"I'm glad you invited me."

"Want to know a secret?" he asked. She raised an eyebrow and smiled yes. "I was on the verge of asking you out last night, but I was afraid four days in a row might seem too much for people who'd just met."

She didn't tell him that she'd been more than half-hoping that he would call on Monday. She lifted her glass in a toast and said, "Here's to patience."

"All good things..." he offered.

She smiled and they clinked glasses.

The goodnight kiss that night ended up being several kisses, spread over ten minutes on the stoop of her apartment building. Anyone seeing the looks in their eyes would have said it was 50-50 on which one was going to push the other through the entry door and upstairs to her apartment.

But when he slid his fingers from her jawline and down her neck, Lina flinched. Just a bit, but the spell was broken. Of course, Greg had no way of knowing that one of her recent suitors had done nearly the same thing. Only, she had learned, he did it to feel his date's pulse to help him gauge how effectively his seduction was going.

Greg sensed the change and gave himself a half-second to compose his face before pulling back. He managed to open his eyes and smile at her, instead of looking frantic or wounded.

"Have lunch with me tomorrow?" he said, bringing an instant feeling of relief to Lina; she hadn't chased him off with her sudden cold shoulder.

"I'd love to," she replied. Then added, "That's a tough drive mid-day, though." Unfortunately, they worked on opposite sides of a city that was known much more for traffic congestion than for any real public transportation.

"Well, it turns out my firm is bidding on a remodelling project for a building in your area and we'll be over there all morning meeting with the owners and pitching our designs and ideas."

Greg was an architect. At 24, he was only one year out of a 5-year university program and still had another year to go in his paid internship before he could take his Architect Registration Examination. As an intern, he primarily served as a draftsman at the firm that had taken him on, but he'd told her that he was happy to be learning from some really talented architects.

"That sounds exciting," she said. "And lunch sounds great. Where would you like to go?"

"I'm going to leave that up to you," he answered. "I don't know enough about eateries in your area to make an intelligent choice. Just text me an address and I'll meet you there."

"This is really delicious," said Greg after swallowing his third forkful of the big chile relleno. "I love Mexican food, and this is really special. I love how small places like this are able to keep that homemade flavour, while still serving a steady stream of customers."

The restaurant, Las Hermanas, was certainly no hole-in-the-wall, being well-appointed, clean, and airy, but there were only about eight 4-person tables, a couple of 2-seaters and a stand-up counter on the front deck where day laborers in dirty work clothes relished their mid-day meals. Nearly every place was full and the servers were moving constantly, shuttling plates of eye-catching meals from the kitchen to the eager customers.

Lina watched happily as Greg dug into the Spanish rice and refried beans alongside the big stuffed poblano pepper, obviously enjoying the side dishes as well as the main. She said, "The owners have been approached about opening another restaurant deeper into town, but so far they're not sure they should."

"You know," he said after taking a sip of his fresh squeezed lemonade, "Part of me would love to have such a great place that much closer to my apartment. But expansion always makes me fear dilution, you know? Would they be able to replicate this taste in the second place or would both be a little bit less?"

"That's exactly what the owners are worried about," said Lina. "Two sisters run it and both do the cooking, so theoretically, one could manage this kitchen and the other could handle the new place."

"But I bet there's a...what's the right word? Synchronicity? Synergism? Symbiosis? A special collaboration, especially being sisters, that makes the whole more than the sum of the parts. Does that make sense? Sorry. I sound like I'm pitching a building design." He laughed at himself.

"No, you're right, you've got it just right. There's always collaboration, not competition in the kitchen and they do make each other better. I think if they split up it wouldn't be as much fun for them and it would have to show up in the food. I mean, it would certainly still be delicious, but it wouldn't be..."

"It wouldn't be this quiet magic," Greg suggested, before forking another big bite into his mouth.

"Magic, yes," Lina agreed happily. "Quiet, however? I don't know..." She tilted her head toward the open pass-through and Greg took a moment to register the clatter of dishes, the sizzle of frying pans and over it all the non-stop Spanish that regularly swelled and ebbed in volume, but never got quiet. A handsome, middle-aged Mexican woman putting plates up in the window caught his eye as he looked and smiled broadly at him. Greg felt certain he was seeing one of the sister-owners. He nodded at her and smiled back.

"Okay, so, not quiet in the making, but definitely magic," he said, holding up his square of cornbread to Lina. She raised her own and they tapped the corners together in a toast before taking delicious bites.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Later that night the new couple were eating pizza slices before going to see a movie.

"Greg? I have a confession to make," Lina said with a bit of a nervous tremor in her voice.

Confession? Not as bad as the infamous, Honey, we have to talk, but still not usually a good thing. Greg didn't say anything, just put down his slice and nodded at her with the friendliest look he could manage.

"That restaurant we went to for lunch? The two sisters that run it? They're my mother and aunt."

He stared at her a long moment and Lina worried she might finally see Greg's angry side. But instead, he laughed. So loud that other diners looked their way.

"Wow!" he finally gasped. "You snuck me in for the mother review without even giving me a heads up?"

"I'm really sorry," she pleaded. "I meant to tell you, but then it seemed too late and would've just made lunch too awkward and then you had to take off to get back to work and—"

He put his hand across the table on top of her two, which were wringing together.

"It's okay," he said. "Really, it's okay. So, did I pass first muster? Hey, I hope you told them how much I liked their food, even not knowing who made it."

"I did," she assured him. "And they were very happy to learn that you have such a discerning palate.

"And," she continued in a lower voice, "they thought you looked very fit and handsome."

Her tía had especially gushed about his good looks, waggling her eyebrows suggestively as she did. Her mother had, of course, steered the conversation away from sex and back to the "boy's" family and background. Lina had given them as little info as she could before begging off to return to work herself at the law office where she and her friend Tory were paralegals. She knew, however, that next Sunday's family dinner would not be such an easy interrogation.

"So, Lina," Greg said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Can I ask you something a bit personal?" When she nodded yes, he said, "I kind of get the feeling that you're starting to like me, but that you don't really trust your own judgement. Like you're really relying on your friends and family to help you decide whether I'm a good guy or not. It's probably not really my business, but have you had some bad luck with boyfriends?"

Lina picked up her beer glass and took a slow sip, gathering her thoughts.

"Yes and yes," she finally said after swallowing. "Yes, I'm starting to like you and yes, I've picked a few duds the past couple of years."

He waited, giving her time to keep speaking, but it appeared she didn't know what to say next.

"And so you feel like it's better to go slow? Maybe not open yourself up to another bad situation?"

She just nodded and then looked down at the table, thinking her heart might be in for yet another tear. Oh, well, at least it was early; she couldn't even call it a relationship yet. Shouldn't even leave a scar this time.

He put his hand on top of hers again. "Slow is fine," he said. "I'm actually amazed at how quickly I've come to look forward to seeing you the next time. I mean, it hasn't even been a week and this is already our sixth date, not to mention two in one day."

She looked up at him in wonder. He wasn't dumping her for making him wait?

Greg read her face differently, as if she was confused or astounded at the number of dates he was claiming. "I'm counting last Friday night at Henrietta's," he grinned. "I was only there that night because I'd seen you the week before and hoped you'd be back."

They skipped the movie and stayed at the pizza parlour for a second beer. Neither dove into great detail, but they did share some past relationship highlights and low points that shaped where each of them was coming from now.

His apartment was a half-mile away, but the night air was gentle and clear and they walked, continuing to talk about other things in their lives. Once inside his place, they were in each other's arms and kissing hungrily. She tasted the pizza and beer on his breath and laughed at herself for worrying that he would taste it on hers. Of course he would.

They sat on the sofa in his small, but tastefully decorated (and clean!) apartment. She tensed when he placed his hand on her breast, but then realized she'd put hers on his chest first. She pressed harder. Auntie was right, he did have a nice body.

And the way he was touching her breast was nice too. She found herself thrusting into his hand, signalling him that it was okay to go further. Then she began working on his shirt buttons so she could return the favour. Soon she was peeling open his shirt to expose broad, chiselled pecs.

She'd learned he'd been a swimmer in high school and college and decided she liked this type of muscle. Two or three guys ago, she'd started up with a bodybuilder and had been entranced with his body at first. But when it became clear that he was even more entranced with it, she'd started to see it as a bit freakish. He'd dumped her for a female bodybuilder after two months. But not before he'd used his strength to push her into doing some things she wasn't sure she was ready for and hadn't enjoyed.

But she was enjoying this. She moved up onto her knees between his thighs on the sofa and pressed him into the corner. She leaned in and flicked the tip of her tongue over the left nipple. It was firm when she started but went hard right away as he gasped. Moving her head to his right nipple, she found it already hard. She waggled the nub of dark flesh up and down with her tongue. Then she smiled, bared her teeth, and bit down theatrically, albeit gently, on the button. Greg groaned and Lina felt her womanhood go wet.

She sat back on her haunches and took in his handsome face. He was leaning back with eyes closed, in apparent ecstasy. Suddenly, however, his eyes opened to stare directly into hers with a fierce hunger.